


Tethered Soul

by allonsysilvertongue



Category: Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins
Genre: Are you curious now, District Twelve, F/M, Haymitch & Effie are very much present here, Post-Mockingjay, Somewhat supernatural-y, i know it says major character death but please give it a shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-11
Updated: 2015-06-18
Packaged: 2018-04-03 21:05:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 10,599
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4114912
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allonsysilvertongue/pseuds/allonsysilvertongue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the Rebellion, Haymitch returned to his house in District Twelve. Effie is living with him but there is something about her that she must learn before she could move on. Effie needs to rediscover herself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

 

** Part 1 **

Haymitch Abernathy lay slumped on the sofa, his breaths coming out in puffs of smoke. The air was chill and it made him shiver, but when he felt the cold icy dread passed through him, he jerked awake.

His eyes landed on the figure standing next to him on the sofa. He wasn't surprised with the sudden cold now that he had seen her there. "What?" he grumbled.

The woman was pale but her blue eyes shone like bright stars on the night sky in this dim house.

"You're drunk again," she huffed.

"What an astute observation, sweetheart."

"Haymitch," she sighed, "you've been back here for three months now. You've not done much except to get drunk. You haven't even unpacked your things that you brought back from the Capitol!"

He had been back for nearly three years but he supposed, time move differently when one is in a different plane.

"Go away," he muttered. "You're a nuisance."

Effie glared at his dismissal but left the room. She knew it was fruitless to argue with him sometimes.

Haymitch did not see her again until that afternoon when she glided into the room. Effie glance around and then fixed him with a stare.

"Look at the mess you've made of this house! Would it cause you great physical pain to clean up once in a while? I think not. Now, I can't have our house looking like a pig sty – please, clean your mess."

" _My_  house," he replied without much thought.

They have had this argument countless times and no matter how many times he tried to tell her that this was  _his_  house, she didn't seem to get the message.

"Technicalities really," she waved her hand as if it was a mere pesky problem. "It's really our house – I stay here, too, don't I?" she laughed then and added, "I still wonder what made me move in with you - especially when I know just how messy you'd be."

"I've been wondering the same thing. I sure as hell didn't invite you here," he shrugged.

"I'm sure you did or I wouldn't have moved in.  _That_  would be bad manners."

He gave her the side-eye. He had  _not_  invited her to move in. He had woken up one day to see her standing at the foot of his bed and his heart had nearly gave out especially since he had attended her –

"Please pick up your shirt," she ordered.

Haymitch growled under his breath. She really shouldn't be ordering him around. Not in her  _state_. How long was he supposed to sit here and let her think that everything was as it should be when it was not? Three years was a long time.

"You pick it up if it bothers you too much," he told her seriously.

Haymitch stared at her, watching her reaction.

Effie gave a long suffering sigh, letting him know just how much he was inconveniencing her. She moved forward, hands outstretched.

She was close, her fingers nearly hooked around the collar of his crumpled shirt when it plunged through it and into the floor board before it resurfaced. Haymitch held his breath, waiting for it to sink in and for her to understand the implications.

"What - " her head snapped up, dumbstruck.

"Try again."

Confused, Effie did it over and over only to give a cry of frustration after the fourth attempt.

"You do know you're a ghost right?" Haymitch asked bluntly, raising an eyebrow incredulously. "Ghost just… passes through things - nothing solid 'bout you."

Effie gasped. "Don't be preposterous."

"What?" he rolled his eyes. "You've never noticed that all these while ever since you  _"moved in"_  here, you never had to open doors to go from room to room?"

"I - "

"Seriously, sweetheart, when was the last time you actually held something in your hands?"

That seemed to strike something in her because she looked down at her hands, pale and silvery, and shimmering in the light.

"You're a ghost, sweetheart," he said, gently this time. "I'm sorry but… But that's what you are. You'd probably need time to digest all that. I sure did when you first came to me," he said and snorted, "just my sort of luck to have my house inhabited by a spirit, eh? And you of all people."

"I am  _not_  a ghost," she told him firmly, arms crossed in front of her chest. "That's not funny at all, Haymitch."

What he told her had angered her. He could see it in the way her brows were creased together; the way her lips were pinched into a thin line; the way she stood, all stiff and tall. Effie crept closer towards him and in her rage, the lights above her flickered. The old vase cracked and fell apart. It startled her enough to calm her down. The lights came back on.

"Haymitch?" she was looking at him with complete uncertainty and she came to a stand directly next to him. It made him shiver.

"You're very cold," he informed her. "When you enter a room, it gets chilly. It's … It's worse when you try to touch me. I said try 'cause your hand just passed through me and the feeling's similar to having frozen ice dumped inside me."

Effie looked stricken, still toeing the fine line between believing him and thinking it was a joke on his part.

"Go look in the mirror," he said finally.

She did and her face was a myriad of emotions; disbelief, shock, confusion.

"I – I don't understand," she shook her head, staring at the clear mirror where nothing reflects back. "I don't …. How am I…?"

He opened his mouth to explain but the front door was thrown open. Katniss trudged into the house without knocking.

"You have a guest or something? Thought I heard you talking," she said.

Effie seemed to have temporarily forgotten about her non-existent reflection in the mirror. Her face lighted up at the sight of Katniss but when she spoke, her voice was guarded, remembering the times the girl had brushed her off.

"Hello, my dear."

The girl walked right past her into the kitchen.

"Peeta's made you some cinnamon rolls – I'm putting them here," she said and glance over her shoulder at him. Katniss sighed. "Clean yourself up, Haymitch. You'd know what Effie would say if she could see you."

Haymitch muttered something under his breath that sounded like "thanks" and "mind your own business."

"I've been telling him the same!" Effie exclaimed. "And… And I can see him, Katniss. Why would you think that I can't?"

Katniss ignored her.

"I'm going to the woods," she told her former mentor and left the house.

"She's just unhappy with me," Effie said brightly, passing the incident off just like she had done countless of times before. "I must have said something to upset her. You always said I run my mouth."

"She can't see you," Haymitch told her simply. When all she did was stared at him as if he had lost his mind, he stood up tiredly. "Come on, sweetheart. Somethin' I gotta show you. I should have showed it to you sooner."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had this idea at work while thinking to myself, "if i die, i'd probably come back as ghost, still thinking i have urgent files to clear". I'm trying to keep this close to canon as possible with that twist.


	2. Chapter 2

Haymitch climbed the stairs, one step at a time. Effie followed behind him as he led her towards his bedroom. He went for his drawers and took out a stack of papers.

Effie hovered near the door, watching him curiously. Haymitch gestured her closer to the bed.

He was used to the cold in Twelve during the winter but Effie brought with her the arctic air that chilled him to the bones. Haymitch made an unconscious grab for the black woollen sweater that had somehow made it through the Rebellion with him and shrugged into it.

"Oh, I'm terribly sorry," she spoke when she realised the effect she had on him. She made to move back a little.

"Doesn't matter," he said. Haymitch spread the newspaper clippings on his bed. "Come look."

Those newspaper cuttings were all the reported stories on Effie Trinket. It detailed her life, her rise to an escort for Twelve, her role in the Rebellion, and to her final moments.

"That paper said that… Am I – I'm dead?" she asked.

"Yes."

The expressionless way he said it made her glance at him but Haymitch kept his face impassive, letting nothing betray how much her death had hurt him.

"How?"

She could have read it from the papers but she wanted to know from him. He had known and he had kept it from her.

"Poison," he answered. "You were poisoned. It was in your wine."

She stared at him and then she chuckled, humourlessly.

"You mean to tell me that someone tried to poison me?"

"Tried and succeeded," Haymitch said flatly, gesturing at herself. "Don't forget you are a ghost."

"Haymitch! That's very… It's very… It's not nice," she finished.

"Look, sweetheart, I know it's difficult for you to come to terms with it. Never thought you'd have to learn 'bout your own death, do you? But truth is, you died. Now, I don't know why you're here or why you can't move on but maybe the denial isn't helping."

"Excuse me if I don't jump in excitement and accept my death right away, Haymitch. You can't fault me for being in denial. I mean, after all, why would anyone try to  _kill_  me? The war was won!"

"Yeah it was, but it wasn't a guarantee of peace, apparently. Exhibit A," he nodded at her direction.

"You're being rude. Do you not care at all that I have so clearly died? What a tragedy!"

He gave a slight shake of the head, as if he couldn't quite believe that she of all people was asking him that question.

"Oh, if you only knew, sweetheart," he muttered. He had spent sleepless nights dreaming of her, going through the "what ifs" and having her haunt his dreams.

"Tell me clearly what happened to me. You must know," she implored. "You do know, don't you?"

"After the Rebellion and after he was released from the hospital, you came to Twelve with Peeta. It was a few months after I brought Katniss home," he told her. She nodded to show that she remembered. "Before you left Twelve to return to the Capitol, someone…. Well, someone gifted you with a gift – a bottle of wine. It was poisoned. You didn't know and neither did any of us. You drank the wine on your way back in the train. You did reach the Capitol, sweetheart," he stared at his hand. His next words were heavy and remorseful, despite his efforts in trying to control himself. "You made it but they found you dead in your compartment."

There was a brief moment of silence as she grappled with what he had told her before she asked, "Why? Why would someone do that to me?"

He sighed. If she hadn't return to him as she was, he would never have to explain to her why which was probably for the better. He didn't know how she would take it but someone did kill her and she deserved to know.

"Because of your role in the Games," he explained. "That person thought you got off lightly, that you didn't deserve to live, walking and visiting Twelve when so many others are dead. It was... It was revenge, sweetheart, pure and simple."

The temperature in the room plunged into an unbearable coldness. Haymitch pulled his sweater tighter around him. Effie's eyes had darkened as she stood tall, angry and defiant. He wondered if this was why people were afraid of ghost. Haymitch glanced around to see that his bedroom windows had frosted over.

"You're upset," he noted. "Calm down, sweetheart. I'll freeze to death."

She blinked and the pale blue of her irises were visible once more.

"Well, of course, I am upset," she sniffed. "I've just been murdered."

"Actually, it was three years ago that - " He broke off when she glared at him.

Effie spent quite some time pacing back and forth in front of his bed, sniffling. At times, she would just stop, hovering a few inches of the floor as the tears fell down her cheeks. He wanted to say something to comfort her but what could he say? In the end, he left her alone to grieve, sitting quietly on the bed with a drink in hand.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart," he spoke, breaking the silence.

"Why are you sorry?"

He heaved a breath, running a hand over his face. "Should have looked out for you," he mumbled. "I slipped. I've never taken anyone's safety for granted but that day…. I didn't think anything would happen. It was a stupid mistake."

"You're blaming yourself for my death…" she tilted her head. "How is it your fault? It's not your fault, Haymitch."

"Still cost you your life," he argued.

"It's not your fault," she stated firmly.

Effie floated straight towards the middle of the bed so that only the top half of her body was visible. Her eyes scanned the various clippings. Haymitch wondered if she actually noticed whenever she walked into solid objects.

"I don't feel any different," she mused. "I don't feel like I'm… dead. Hmm, that certainly sounded odd when I say it out loud."

"You ain't any different," he offered by way of observation. "You're still you. Funny, isn't it? Even in death you're still as annoying as ever, a pain in my ass. You're just… I can't touch you," he said and if ghost could blush, Effie was certainly blushing at the hint of longing in his voice.

"They've caught him – the one of who did this to me," she pointed out, reading from the papers. "Oh, and you were at my funeral."

"'Course I was. Why'd you sound so surprise?"

"I just – I don't know. The way we parted, it was…" she cleared her throat and left it at that. "This is so surreal, Haymitch. It's a peculiar feeling to read about my own death, about my own funeral, people's eulogies of me…"

"Yeah, I imagine it would be."

"Can you turn that page for me?"

There was a gasp as Effie saw the photo of Peeta's painting displayed at her funeral. He had painted the last time he saw her. In it, Effie was wearing a light blue dress, her hair blowing in the wind with a smile on her face but there was a certain sadness in her eyes that Peeta saw and managed to capture in his painting.

"I remember this day," Effie whispered. "We… We argued just before I boarded the train. You weren't at the train station; you were angry with me. I waited, hoping that you would turn up…."

This right here was his newest, freshest nightmare that kept him awake at night; the day she died. He had remained in Victor's Village while Katniss and Peeta sent her off. He lost count the number of times he imagined how different it would be if he had just swallowed his anger and sent her off. He thought about what he would have said to her instead of the last angry exchange they had.

This was one of his many regrets. That day was the last time he saw her and they had not been on good terms.

"I should have stayed like you asked me to…You were right, Haymitch, I was selfish."

"No point dwelling on it," he brushed it off. "I've had three years to think 'bout it. You know, I get it, Eff. The Capitol was your home and you had to try… I don't hold it over your head," he managed a crooked smile.

She looked at him, searching his face.

"You asked me to stay. We were arguing about that and I think… I think that's why I came," she speculated. "I remember going to sleep in the train and when I woke up, I felt… a strong pull. I wanted to be here. I thought about you. I thought about living here with you and then here I was. You said that you didn't ask me to move in, but you did, just before I left Twelve."

A brief thought flashed through his mind. He wanted to ask if it was painless and quick or if she suffered through the pain of poisoning before she eventually succumbed to it but he decided that there were things that was better left unanswered.

"I asked you to stay, yeah, but I sure as hell didn't ask a ghost to move in with me," he snorted. "Now I can't get rid of you."

She laughed. "I must have frightened you!"

He rolled his eyes. "I attended your funeral, sweetheart. I saw them bury you and then when I came back home two days later, I woke up to see you floating at the foot of my bed. How the fuck do you think that makes me feel?"

"I came home!" she exclaimed indignantly. "I came home to you."

"Yeah," he rubbed the back of his neck. "Not that way I expected it."

He wished Effie had come home to him alive. As much as this apparition was very much like his Effie in her mannerism and characteristic, he knew deep down that Effie was gone. He knew that Effie died three years ago - he had seen them lowered her to the ground and buried her - but her spirit lived in his house and so, it felt like she had never truly left him.

It was dangerous and sometimes, he feared he might have gone crazy. He feared it was a hallucination. He didn't know which was worst; a hallucination or talking to a ghost.

"Does Peeta still keep this painting?"

"Yeah, it's in his study," he nodded.

"Why are you the only one who can see me, Haymitch?"

"I don't know," he answered truthfully.

He had thought about it. Ever since she first appeared and he realised that neither Katniss nor Peeta could see her or hear her, he had wondered why it was only him. Was it a blessing or a curse?

He narrowed it down to the fact that they had something between them – a bond, a relationship,  _something_  – that gave him this privilege. He thought about how there were things left unsettled between them; his regrets at what happened between them, his last words to her, telling her she only thought about herself when he himself was selfish for wanting her here with him. Perhaps she regretted the same, and maybe, just maybe, that regret tethered her here and pulled her back to his house, to him.

Haymitch could only speculate. He couldn't know for sure and he certainly didn't know that by telling Effie the truth about her death, he had given her a chance and had opened a door for her to accept her demise and learn to be at peace with it. When she finally did, she would fade away from this world.


	3. Chapter 3

Haymitch found it extremely easy to locate Effie. He just needed to find the coldest part of the house. He found her at the end of the empty hallway that morning; a lone figure in front of one of the few mirrors he had in the house. She was staring despondently at the mirror, questioning her own existence or lack thereof.

"Where was I buried?" she asked when she heard his approaching footsteps.

"In the Capitol," he answered. "Next to your sister."

"I see," Effie nodded. "I can't see myself... How do I look? Do I still look like... me?"

"Yeah, exactly as Peeta had painted you, sweetheart."

"I look as I did just moments before my death, then."

 _Not quite,_  he wanted to say. Her once rosy complexion dusted with eyeshadows and blushers were now pale. Her hair that was always silky and shiny under the lights seemed lifeless. Those were little differences but ones which he noticed nonetheless because he had spent nights tracing the curves of her body and memorising the planes of her face.

"You look... lovely, still."

It startled her and her next words made him realise that he hardly ever complimented her while she was still alive, "that's... very nice of you. If I knew you'd be this sweet, I would have died sooner."

"That's not funny, Effs," he scowled at her poor attempt of a joke.

She looked away briefly, a flash of guilt in her eyes before she turned to give him an apologetic smile over her shoulder. Her smile was still the same; her real, genuine smile that she reserved just for him.  _That_ did not change in death.

It made his heart ache so terribly and he didn't think he could take being in the same room with her at that moment. Haymitch left the house abruptly much to her confusion. He heard her calling for him but it only made him picked up his pace.

XxX

The warmth of Peeta's house was a stark difference against his own. It was almost a welcome reprieve but Haymitch didn't stop to bask in the warmth. He went searching for the boy and without any sort of greeting, he said, "I want that painting."

Peeta was hunched over the kitchen counter, brushing egg white over his pastry dough. Katniss who was sneakily eating a cheese bun while Peeta wasn't looking froze suddenly. They both looked up, turning towards Haymitch.

"What painting?"

"The one of Effie; the one you displayed during her…" he swallowed, "during her funeral."

"Oh," Peeta straightened up. "That's a very sudden request. You've never wanted it before when I offered it to you. You didn't even want to look at it. I'd be offended except I know it wasn't because my painting skills were horrible. So why now?"

"I changed my mind," he said simply.

The kids exchanged a glance; a silent communication took place between them. Haymitch watched with a pang of jealousy. He used to do that with Effie. He knew what a slight crease of her eyebrows meant and she nearly always knew what he was thinking. Peeta nodded after a while and Katniss left the kitchen, climbing the stairs to the study. She returned with the painting which she handed over to Haymitch.

"Okay?" Katniss queried, standing in front of him with a look of concern on her face.

"Yeah," he mumbled. "Just thought of this painting this mornin' and I –"

He shrugged away the explanation.

"It belongs with you anyway. You should have it," Peeta said gently, coming to a stand next to Katniss. "She would love it, do you think? I hope she would."

Haymitch nodded numbly.

"How are you coping?" Peeta ventured to ask.

He wasn't truly expecting a reply or an honest answer but Peeta tended to ask Haymitch that question once in a while. His intentions were good but Haymitch was never one to discuss his feelings. Katniss on the other hand understood that. She never asked but the girl was there as much as she could just as he had been for her.

"Thanks, kid," Haymitch said instead.

When he returned, he hung the painting above the fireplace. His last good memory of her was waking up next to her warm body that morning before she died but this Effie was perpetually cold so he hung the painting in a place that would give off some warmth. That was how he wanted to remember her. He wanted to remember her warmth; her breath on his neck and the heat radiating off her when she wrapped herself around him.

Effie floated up next to him and all thought of warmth fled his mind. He clenched his teeth as a cool gust of air blew in his face. Beside him, Effie made a strangled sound. He saw her hand rose, reaching out to touch him before she remembered and it fell to her sides. He thought maybe she had wanted to hug him.

"Thank you," she whispered. "I won't forget how I look. Not ever."

XxX

Sometimes in her excitement, she forgot that she couldn't quite feel solid objects. That afternoon, Haymitch walked in the front door just as Effie went towards it. She floated straight through him and he let out a string of curses that would have made a sailor blush.

"How very vulgar," Effie shook her head.

"Watch where you're going," he barked.

She trailed after him. "Where have you been?"

"Out."

"That much is clear. Out where?"

"You're keeping tabs now?"

"I was just bored," she pouted. "There's nothing much to do. I've been alone the entire day with no one to talk to. I've been scaring your geese. I think it made them mad. They kept hissing. Aside from you, they're the only other living beings that can see me."

"Did you have fun?" he sneered.

"Scaring your geese is not an activity that occupies my entire day. The excitement wore off after a while."

"Leave my geese alone, sweetheart," he said tiredly and sank into the sofa, stretching out across him.

"But where have you been?"

"Helping Peeta at his bakery," he covered his eyes with his arms hoping she would take the hint and leave him alone.

No such luck.

"Why?" she pressed.

"Cause you told me to, didn't you, sweetheart?" he growled under his breath. "You told me business was doing good and the boy's overwhelmed, said something 'bout not wasting my time or whatever," he mumbled. "Figured I might as well – being here with you all day drives me crazy. You ain't even real."

"With how things are turning out for me, I am certain ghosts are real," she told him patiently. "I'm here, am I not?"

"Hmm."

"But, oh! Oh, I am  _so_  delighted to hear that you did something with your day, Haymitch! What did you do? How was your first day?"

He peered at her, finding her enthusiasm rather intense even though that was how she had always been. "Nothin' much. I fixed one of his ovens."

"You fixed one of his ovens? I wasn't aware you knew how to fix appliances. Was that your talent after you won? I never quite know what yours was."

"Nah, it wasn't," he shook his head. "When you grew up in the Seam and you're the eldest child, you gotta learn to know how to do things, y'know? There's always things that needed to be fixed so it can be reused - can't afford to buy new things or anything like that. That and I guess, hanging around Beetee taught me a few things or two."

Effie smiled affectionately at him. He looked away. "Did you only fix his ovens? You were gone the entire day," she pointed out.

"The boy made me stay - said it'll be good for me to get to know people. Tried to shake him off but I ended up handling the casher register. It was either that or serving customers. I chose the lesser of two evils," he scowled. "Katniss had a good laugh."

Apparently, Effie found the situation just as comical as Katniss because she giggled.

"They expect me there again," he sighed.

"Can I come with you tomorrow?" she asked eagerly. "If you won't be home then I'll get bored here all alone. It turns out, there's really not much fun to be had being... dead," she laughed bitterly.

"Effie... I don't think..."

"Oh, please, Haymitch," she begged and pierced him with a look that almost always made him relent.

This time it was no different.

 


	4. Chapter 4

Effie hated the stray, wild dog that frequently roamed the outskirts of Victor's Village. Each time she passed by the dog, it would jump to its feet, howling and barking in Effie's direction.

"Rude," Effie gave it the side-eye.

Haymitch chuckled. "Looks like that dog aren't such a big fan of you, sweetheart."

"I'd like to think it feels threatened by my ethereal presence."

It made Haymitch rolled his eyes.

"Let's see how it likes this," Effie laughed quietly and glided straight towards the dog. It whined and fell silent.

"Leave that dog alone," Haymitch shook his head. "Come on, we're –"

He broke off as he rounded the corner. An elderly woman was staring at him as if he had grown two heads. He realised how crazy he must have appeared to the woman, talking to himself.

It was the problem he had been facing for the past three days since Effie insisted on coming with him to the bakery. Having her around people's presence was not as easy as he would like to think. Effie certainly made things quite difficult as she floated and roamed the bakery as she pleased, commenting on mindless little things despite being aware of the fact that he couldn't quite reply her. He had slipped once or twice and the kids had given him a quizzical look but he shrugged them off.

She made it obvious that she was exceptionally delighted with him and, "I'm proud of you, Haymitch. I'm happy that you're not cooped up at home all day long." She enjoyed the forced interaction he had to go through, especially with little children old enough to know who he was and who would also stare at him in awe.

"Hello, Mr. Abernathy," a little girl smiled at him shyly. "Mama said you're a hero, is it true?"

"No," he growled under his breath as he accepted the coins the girl placed on his palm.

"But you helped Katniss to end something really bad. So you're a hero!"

"Take your bread, kid, and run along. Your mother's waiting for you outside."

**_"You shouldn't be so harsh with her. She's such a cute child. Children love you, Haymitch. I've noticed that. They look up to you, just like Katniss and Peeta."_ **

He gave her a brief glance.

**_"You could be nicer to them. They're just - Oh! That smells fantastic. What is that?"_ **

Effie sniffed the air and peered into Peeta's tray to get a better look.

"I think the heater's broken," Peeta commented. "It's chilly in here. It's been quite cold since the past few days. Don't you realise it?"

 _That's 'cause Effie's right next to you,_  he thought quietly to himself, _and has been haunting your shop for three days._

"I'll fix it," he mumbled instead.

"It's late you don't have to do it today," Katniss told him. "We're closing soon, anyway."

"Good. I'm heading home first then."

"Have you thought about what I said?" Peeta asked before Haymitch could leave.

He paused by the door, a hand on the knob. He turned to face the boy. "No."

Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw Effie raised an eyebrow.

**"** **_Thought about what?"_ **

"Oh, well, I was just asking because she was here earlier today – the one in the orange blouse, bought a dozen strawberry tarts. You must have seen her when you rang her up."

"Didn't notice," he lied.

He remembered that woman now that Peeta had pointed her out. She was pretty and soft-spoken, a teacher at the new school Twelve had just rebuilt, if memory served him right. She had tried to make small talks with him but small talk was not his forte so he had listened and nodded appropriately.

"Well, why don't you meet her? Just once  _and_  by meeting, I don't mean here, in my bakery. I mean, you know, a meal outside or something?" Peeta grinned. "She's a very lovely lady, Haymitch. I've talked to her myself."

**_"Who is this 'she' the children are talking about? What are you not telling me, Haymitch?"_ **

Effie crossed her arms and pursed her lips, staring intently at Haymitch. She made her displeasure known because the lights in the bakery started to flicker and the windows were blown open, rattling on its hinges. Katniss glanced around the room in confusion before she shut the windows and latched them.

"I ain't interested, boy. I told you."

"Oh, come now, Haymitch," Peeta tried, refusing to drop the subject. "It'll be good for you. It's been three years. Maybe… Maybe it's time you move on and rebuild your life. The war's over and you've made it. You shouldn't waste the second chance."

Haymitch clenched his fingers into a fist at his sides. Peeta's intentions were good and they were always pure but he hated people meddling with his life. He had enough of that from the Capitol. Did the boy think it was easy to just leave it all behind and  _move on_? Because it wasn't easy for him.

He still woke up on most nights, in cold sweat, reaching out for Effie only to find the bed next to him empty. It would all come back to him then. He would remember what happened to her followed by the overwhelming guilt. If he had been there at the train station, he could have stopped her from receiving a gift from stranger. He would have known how suspicious it was for a poor district citizen to give a bottle of wine to someone like her.  _He_ could have stopped her.

Effie, oblivious to his inner turmoil, chose that moment to speak up and ask the most redundant question when it was obvious what was happening.

**_"Are they setting you up on a_ ** **date?"**

"Not now! Be quiet, sweetheart," he snapped.

"I didn't say anything," Katniss retorted defensively.

Peeta slung the dish cloth over his shoulder and propped his hip on the counter. "Like I said, the war is over and won. It's time for us to live. Katniss and I just want you to be… happy."

"Don't get me involved in this. It was your idea, not mine," Katniss hissed under her breath.

"I'm sure Effie would want the same," Peeta went on. "She wouldn't want to see you like this, Haymitch. I - I promised her the day that she left for Twelve -"

 _The day she died, you mean_ , Haymitch added.

"- that I'll look out for you. I promised her and that's what I'm doing. I'm looking out for you, Haymitch. We're a family and I don't want to see you like this. You've looked after us and I can't thank you enough for it; you kept Katniss alive and there's nothing I can do to repay it but I can  _try_. It's our turn now, let us. We don't want you to waste your life away, grieving."

Katniss, Haymitch noticed, was desperately shaking her head at Peeta, trying to tell him to be quiet and stop talking. She was trying to be discreet but she was never very good at it. Katniss, at least, knew that that was not the way to get Haymitch to give in.

Haymitch's gaze strayed over to where Effie was. Her form shimmered, the silvery moon light spilling on and through her. She seemed stricken and he wondered what she was thinking, how she was taking all of this in. He doubted that it had ever occurred to her that he was  _still_  grieving her death.

Things back home had always been how it had been when she was still alive. They bickered and argued, and they laughed over certain things. Sometimes, they talked late into the night because she didn't need to sleep and he didn't want to sleep if it meant being greeted by nightmares. To her, nothing had changed.

"How'd you know what she wants?" Haymitch challenged. "Who even knows what goes on in that head of hers, hmm? You know, sometimes I thought I knew her, but I don't, not completely. I thought she was ready to live her life behind, to stay here and try something more with me than us just fuc…" he trailed off. The kids didn't need to know that. "But I was wrong, she wasn't."

"I should have known that and we wouldn't have…" he snapped his mouth shut. "No, boy, you don't get to come and tell me that this isn't what she wants for me because  _none_  of us can really tell what she wants, not then and not now."

**_"Haymitch…_ ** **"**

Her voice was soft and uncertain. A muscle in his jaw ticked and he resolutely turned his back to her.

"Her death wasn't your fault," Katniss said quietly, speaking up at last.

She knew what it was about without him having to tell her. They always knew what the other was thinking. It made Effie jealous at times.

"You kept telling me those few months after you brought me home that there was nothing I could do about Prim. Prim's death was not on me. It was easy to blame myself because I'm her sister, I should have been there for her, but you were right, Haymitch. It took me a few years but you were right. I couldn't possibly know that she'd be on that hovercraft. Maybe it's time you take your own advice, old man. Effie's death is not on you. Stop blaming yourself. The person who did this to her has already been punished.  _You_  should stop punishing yourself."

"I agree with Katniss," Peeta nodded and Haymitch scoffed. Of course he would agree with Katniss, surprise, surprise. "It's time you let go. Each time we bring up Effie's name, you close up. You get angry and agitated."

**_I've never blamed you, Haymitch._ **

"I still ain't going on that date," he asserted himself and stormed out of the bakery, slamming the door loudly behind him.

* * *

_Thanks for reading! Let me know what you think :)_


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel that the chapters just got ridiculously long as it progress. Since this is the final chapter (or so because there'll be an epilogue) you get a a long chapter without it being split into two parts!

“Peeta has a point.”

Effie appeared so suddenly in his bedroom that it startled him.

“Son of a –“

“Don’t curse, Haymitch,” she cut him off and stared at him. It was clear that something was bothering her because she did not even avert her gaze when she realised that he was half-naked, covered only in a towel around his waist. “You need to shave,” she added distractedly. “Get back in the bathroom and shave.”

“You’re dead. Stop bossing me around.”

“You can _not_  just tell me I’m dead each time you don’t want to do as I asked! That’s not how it works,” she exclaimed, looking indignant.

“Yeah, see, no one can tell for sure if that’s how it works. Is there a manual or something for how the living and the dead should behave? ‘Cause if there is, I’m pretty sure I ain’t supposed to be talking to ghosts.”

Effie chewed on her bottom lip and sighed. “That is also what has got me thinking, Haymitch. You have a point about not talking to … to me and so did Peeta.”

Haymitch pinched the bridge of his nose. She could never get straight to the subject matter sometimes. “What is it, sweetheart?” 

“You’re… You’re alive,” she pointed out.

“Yeah, I’m aware.”

“And I’m… dead. I’m  _dead._  It has never truly sink in but I’m dead, Haymitch. I was murdered on the train back to the Capitol. I was killed. I’m not here, I’m not truly here!” 

“You need to calm down,” Haymitch frowned. “Take a deep breath and –“

“Haven’t you been paying attention?” she snapped. “I’m dead. I don’t breathe!”

“Right,” he ran a hand down his face. “Yeah, of course you don’t. So what’s your point, sweetheart? Why are you suddenly talking about – You’re pale,” he commented, tilting his head in amazement and staring intently at her.

“Whatever do you mean? I’m a  _ghost_ , of course I am pale.” 

“You’re always pale… and you shimmer,” he said carefully, “but you’re translucent. You’re duller now, if that’s possible.”

She huffed. “I shall not point out just how rude that was. Now, don’t change the subject. As I was saying, this woman that Peeta was –“

“Is this what this is about that?” he snorted. “You can quit worrying, sweetheart. You heard what I said, didn’t you? I’m not going on that damn date that he wants me to.”

“But Haymitch… You should give it a try,” she said, clasping her hands together to stop them from shaking. “I’m not here anymore. I don’t hold it against you if you… If you…”

He sucked in a breath. He wasn’t expecting this from her of all people and having her blessings didn’t make it any better.

Haymitch turned away, leaning against the vanity and staring at his reflection in the mirror. He blinked. The mirror reflected him back and no one else but he knew Effie was very close behind him. He could feel her presence.

Foolish as it was, he willed for her to appear in the mirror. He wanted her to be real more than anything else. He had never wanted anything so much in his life before.

_You’re alone. You’ve always been alone._

His heart clenched painfully in his chest.

It never felt like he was. This Effie was a ghost but she was here. She talked to him. She filled the silence in his house. She smiled at him when he said something she thought was endearing. She nagged and she argued. It felt like she had never left.

“Drop the subject. I don’t want to talk ‘bout this.” 

He heard her sigh which was odd for someone who was not breathing, now that he thought about it. Before he could pursue that line of thought any further, he felt the familiar icy cold on his shoulder and he knew she was touching him, urging him to turn around.

Haymitch turned to face her.

She was so hauntingly beautiful even in death. She gave him a small cautious smile and he wanted to take her hand, to let her know that he wasn’t mad at her. He raised his hand and it hovered inches from her face. He knew he couldn’t but his fingers grazed gently against her cheek. He felt wisp of freezing smoke. The left side of her cheek wafted away before it formed back again.

He missed her. He missed her so much. He wanted to feel  _her_ ; real and solid. He wanted to stroke her cheek and run his fingers through her hair. He wanted to hold her to him; feel her heart beating under his palm and he wanted to kiss her; to feel her soft lips on his.

“I miss you.”

“I do, too,” she nodded and her eyes glistened. “The children weren’t wrong, Haymitch. I want you to be happy. I don’t want you to continue grieving for me. You shouldn’t be alone. You  _shouldn’t_! You deserve to be happy.”

He scoffed at how ridiculous that sounded even if she meant well.  _She_  was his happiness. It just never occurred to him until it was too late. The few months after the war ended was one of the sweetest moments he had, with Effie visiting him and Katniss every fortnightly when she wasn't with Peeta at the hospital in the Capitol. They were free from the Games, from Snow and from the Rebellion, and whatever time they had, it was theirs and theirs alone. They fell into a pattern and learnt to grow together during her short but frequent visits. Effie made him feel contented and at ease, and that was as close to being happy as he dared to hope.

But he was selfish. He had always been selfish. He wanted what was his and Effie was  _his._ He wanted more with her. He saw no reason for her to keep going back to the Capitol when she had already brought Peeta home. They could all live here in Twelve but ...

“I heard Finnick the other day,” she clapped her hand together as her eyes lighted up in excitement. He must have been quiet for far too long for Effie to take it as a sign that he no longer wish to talk about the subject and for her to fill the silence with conversation. “It was the most peculiar thing! He gave me such a fright.”

Haymitch blinked and stared at her, certain that he must have heard wrongly. “What?” 

“I can’t see him,” she went to explain, oblivious to Haymitch’s stare, “but I heard him. He was calling for me.” 

“You alright, sweetheart? You know that sounds crazy right?” 

“You’re talking to a ghost, to a dead person who only  _you_  can see. I think crazy’s not something you of all people should be talking about.” 

“You’ve got a -” he broke off. “Effie… Sweetheart, something’s not right with you.”

“I’m not insane!” she glared at him. “I heard him. I really did. I’ve been trying to reach out but –“

“No, no, shut up. There’s something wrong with you. I’m telling you, right now. You’re very… faint.”

XxX

Effie’s faint appearance and the mention of Finnick gnawed at his mind but he tried to push the thoughts away. He didn’t want to think about what it could mean.

Over the course of the next few days, there were no more mention of Finnick but there were moments that Haymitch couldn’t see her. Aside from the cold that came with her presence, he learnt to look for out a faint glow in order to locate where she was in a room. She continued to scare his geese and the dog, followed him to the bakery whenever he was helping Peeta out and messed up the temperature in the bakery which drove Katniss mad. It made Effie laughed.

“You’re annoying even in death,” Haymitch mumbled out of the corner of his mouth.

“You will have to excuse me, Haymitch. This is the only fun I can have. Besides, you always told me to relax and loosen up,” she smiled.

One day, the woman Peeta had been trying to set Haymitch up with came to the bakery. Haymitch watched with a knowing smirk on his lips when Effie floated up right next to her.

“Is everything alright?” Haymitch asked.

“Yes, yes,” she nodded, rubbing the back of her neck as she glanced around. “I just thought I felt… I thought someone’s standing behind me but….” She laughed nervously. “It’s probably nothing. Just the wind, I supposed. You probably think I’m silly.”

“Not at all,” he shook his head as he handed the woman her change. He watched her leave.

“Stop being jealous, sweetheart. It’s unbecoming of you, and here I thought  _you_  wanted me to try somethin’ with her.”

He said in jest – he never had any intention of starting anything with anyone – but Effie’s face fell before she smiled again.

“Just wanted to take a closer look,” she replied. “See if she’s good enough for you.”

Haymitch rolled his eyes. “Yeah, I’m sure.”

XxX

There were times when Haymitch wished that her voice would be just as faint as her appearance was because then at least, he could escape the nagging. If he didn’t know better, it seemed as if Effie was trying to whip him into shape and make sure that he led his life as best as he possibly could. If that was her dying wish, she was certainly seeing it through right now.

“I’m not asking you to quit completely,” she tried to compromise. “Water it down, that’s all.”

“Why do you bother?”

She crossed her arms. “What kind of question is that, Haymitch? Do you have a death wish? Are you aware that prolonged alcohol abuse could lead to various complications and even – “

“Yeah, yeah tell me something Thirteen hasn’t already told me,” he interrupted. He had gone through the painful briefing during his stint in Thirteen when Coin had dried him out and he didn’t need a repeat of that. “I mean, why bother? If I die, hell, you might even finally have a friend where you’re at, sweetheart.”

Effie gaped at him, appalled and surprised that he would say such a thing.

“Don’t say that, Haymitch,” she glared. “Don’t you ever, ever say that to me, do you understand? I will not have you dying now when you’re still so young and you have a few more years on you.”

“I ain’t that young anymore, Effs.”

“You’re not even fifty! When you die, I hope you pass on,” she said quietly. “You don’t deserve being stuck in limbo where I am. Perhaps this is my punishment but you have paid your dues and …” she smiled wistfully.

“I might take you with me,” he shrugged. “Maybe they’ll allow a plus one. I’ve no idea what’s on the other side, might bore me to tears. At least with you around, there’s someone for me to bother my existence away.”

“That’s very sweet,” she smiled at him with so much gentle affection in her eyes. “You’re very sweet. It’s reassuring to know that you want to spend your afterlife with me.”

“Don’t flatter yourself too much.”

Her laughter echoed throughout the house and outside, his geese started honking in distress the moment they heard it.

“Anyway, the newspaper boy delivered the morning paper while you were still asleep. It’s on your front porch.”

“That’s where it’s always been every morning.”

“I read the front page. It says that Remembrance Day is in a week’s time and I recalled you getting an invitation to the City for it. Did you RSVP? You should send a reply before the end of the month. That’s in a few days’ time, Haymitch.”

“No, not going to,” he said.

It really shouldn’t come as a surprise that she was still scheduling, planning and looking after him even now but it did.  

“Why ever not? You should go it’ll be good for you.”

“Yeah, and you’ll be alone in this house.”

“Oh, don’t pretend as if that has bothered you before,” she teased but the smile faded almost instantly. Effie bit her lip and hovered in front of him. “I’ve noticed something. You don’t complain that it’s cold and you don’t shiver when I’m near you anymore.”

Haymitch tilted his head, thinking about what she just said and he realised that it was true. His skin wasn’t prickling right now and his teeth weren’t chattering.

“You’re right. That’s good, I guess.”

“You think so? Haymitch,” her eyes darted to his before she pulled her gaze away. “I… I can feel myself fading. I can feel myself getting weaker.”

“What are you talkin’ about?”

“I don’t really know how to explain or if you would understand but at times, I’m here and there are times when I don’t remember being here at all. Do you see me here all the time because I don’t think… Do you remember when I said I could hear Finnick?”

Haymitch sat straighter. His mouth felt parched all of a sudden so he reached over to grab the bottle of whiskey on the table and guzzled it down. He didn’t want her to talk. The tone of her voice alarmed him. Something stirred in his stomach, a sense of foreboding.

“I’m able to see him now, Haymitch. I can see Prim and Portia. I can see Cinna,” she told him. “Oh, they’re all so beautiful.”

“Effie…”

She bowed her head, floating towards the fireplace. Effie stared at the painting he had hung for her.

“I don’t belong here,” she whispered. “I’m… dead.”

Haymitch pushed himself off the armchair to confront her. “What are you saying?”

“There is a door… Finnick’s opened it for me. He said to come in when I’m ready,” Effie looked at him expectantly, wanting him to understand without her having to say it out.

“And?” his voice softened.  

“I am but I’m worried… about you. I don’t want to leave without knowing that you’ll be okay.”

Haymitch looked away. He couldn’t meet her eyes because he feared that she would know. She would know that he wouldn’t be okay. How was he supposed to? He had seen enough death and braved through a lot since he won his Games, and he had given up on ever having anything for himself but  _she_  gave him hope. She was his hope and she was cruelly taken away from him, just like his family was. To make things worse, he was never given the chance to truly move on because she was here.

He knew deep within his heart that they both needed to move on. She was right. She didn’t belong here and he should be tethered to something that wasn’t real. She was already bored and restless, and she had taken to following him around like a lost puppy. Effie Trinket was never lost. She always knew what to do. If Finnick could lead her someplace where she could be happier, then he wasn’t going to stop her – he didn’t think it was within his power to stop her, anyway. He would bear the pain and he hoped that one day, he would see her again. If Effie could see Finnick and the other faces of their dead friends, then when his time came, he would see her. He was sure of it.

“Quit worrying ‘bout me,” he grunted. “I’m a grown ass man.”

He smirked.

“Could have fooled me,” she shook her head and smiled. “I believe I was grounded to this place because there were things I needed to say to you; things that couldn’t be left unsaid so that we may each have our own peace. Maybe we both needed the second chance.”

“ _Or_  you’re just an anomaly. Even when you’re dead, you had to stand out and be different,” he teased, feeling the need to lighten the mood.

“Be serious now, Haymitch,” she rebuked him. Effie paused, searching his face. “I wish for a lot of things. I want one more day with you; a day where I can feel you again, skin to skin. Before I died, I remembered thinking about you and I remembered wanting so much to have another chance with you. I wanted to tell you that I wish we hadn’t fought that day. I think I’m here to right my wrongs.”

“Cliché,” he swallowed because that was all he could say. The words were stuck in his throat.

“Haymitch,” she sighed. “I know you blame yourself for my death. I hear you calling out for me in your sleep on most nights. I heard you saying you’re sorry over and over again. It pains me so much to know your nightmares are about me now. You need to listen to me because I think you need to hear it from  _me_. Not from Katniss or from Peeta.”

Haymitch inhaled deeply, trying to calm the erratic beating of his heart.

“My death wasn’t your fault,” she told him slowly and firmly. “I don’t blame you. I have  _never_  blamed you. That thought had never crossed my mind. I need you to forgive yourself, Haymitch, please.”

He squeezed his eyes shut and hung his head. He tried to find the heavy guilty feeling in his heart whenever the topic of her death came up but all he felt was a strange hollowness. It took a while before he finally nodded.

“Okay.”

Effie gave him a smile that was so genuinely sweet it made a home in Haymitch’s heart. It was a smile of relief and acceptance. He’d like to think that she was a little more at ease now.  

“You’re so beautiful, Effie,” he said, the words slipping out of him without a thought.

She bit her lip and nodded, the tears finally spilling down her cheeks. “I’ve wanted to hear that for so long.”

“I’ve always shown you how beautiful you are,” he frowned.

“It’s nice to hear it sometimes,” she smiled again. “Haymitch, the children… They care deeply about you. I know you’re not blind to it and don’t you ever forget that they do.”

“Can’t even if I want to,” he shrugged. “They meddle in everything. Think you might have rubbed off on them.”

“When I’m gone, I want you to live. Don’t drink too much and don’t waste your life away. Listen to the children. You’ll be surprised at the kind of good advises they can give you.”

“Sweetheart…”

“Remember me. Please don’t forget me, Haymitch. But don’t hold on to the ghost of me,” she tried hard to control herself but she couldn’t stop the sob from escaping.

“Effie, please.”

“Close your eyes,” she instructed him softly.

It didn’t feel like there was anything else that he could so he did. He drank in the sight of her, hair loose around the shoulders, eyes shining with tears as she stood in front of him, pale and fading. He committed the image to memory before his eye lids fluttered close. He felt a tingling sensation on his lips, like a cooling balm on a wound.

 _A kiss – she’s saying goodbye,_  the thought flashed through his mind.

“I love you, Haymitch. I’ll never stop.”

There was a strong gust of wind which sent him staggering back. He felt something swept through him. It made the hairs at the back of his neck stand. When he opened his eyes, the pearly silvery white that he had long associated with her presence faded into nothing.

Effie was gone. All that was left was an aching, empty loneliness inside of him.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I might have teared while writing this. I'm not sure how you felt while reading this but share with me your thoughts and leave a feedback!


	6. Epilogue

His dreams always took him back to her. Those dreams were one of his best and at times, the most painful. He dreamt of her smile and the way she threw her head back when she laughed. He dreamt of her sitting at the edge of his bed, stroking his hair. She never spoke in his dreams and he wondered if it was because he had forgotten what she sounded like.

It had been years and tried as he might to hold on to everything that reminded him of her, there were memories that were starting to fade. He voiced out his fear that he would soon forget her face only once but Peeta, always so attuned to human emotions, assured him that if it was within his power, Haymitch would never forget how Effie looked like. Haymitch's bed room was filled with paintings of Effie, drawn from their memories of her.

It was from those paintings that Willow Mellark came to know about her Grandma Effie, the one person that she had never met but had heard a lot of from her parents and her Grandpa Haymitch.

Talking to Willow about Effie and telling the girl stories about her became one of Haymitch's favourite past time even though he had never admitted it out loud to anyone.

"She would have doted on you," he nudged the girl as he ran his fingers through her knotted blonde hair.

She snuggled closer to him on the bed. "Do you love her, Grandpa?"

"Very much," he answered and it was only to Willow that he would confess such a thing without a second thought.

"Like how daddy loves mummy?"

"Yeah, just like that."

"Are you gonna fall asleep on me again?" she scrunched her nose.

Willow had grumbled to her father once about how Haymitch was getting boring because he wouldn't play with her much but Katniss had soothe her child, trying to make her understand that Haymitch wasn't as young and as agile as he used to be. He would like to spend more time with the girl if he could but he was always so tired lately.

"Nah," he mumbled but his eyelids were growing heavier.

He heard Willow calling out his name. He heard her moving around his bed, playing with her dolls and talking to herself before she faded away and he fell asleep.

When he woke up, the morning light filtered through his bedroom window and he cracked his eyes open. He froze and stared.

"Effie," he rasped.

"Hello, Haymitch," she smiled.

It was just like in his dreams. She was sitting at the edge of his bed, looking just as she did when she was an annoying ghost in his house. The corner of his lips lifted upwards into a smile.

"You're talking," he pointed out. "You never talked in my dreams."

"Special circumstances," she told him, "and you're not dreaming. I'm here."

"Here where?"

"Your house, of course," she laughed. Her eyes were bright and her gaze was gentle. "You've been so brave, Haymitch. I'm so proud of you. You lived your life with the children and with  _their_  children, and you weren't alone. I was so afraid that you'd keep to yourself and shut people out but you didn't, and you made me so happy."

"How'd you know?" he frowned.

"The people you love never truly leave you, Haymitch. I was watching you for thirty three years. To see you with family make me glad," she beamed at him and then her eyes twinkled.

He blinked slowly and nodded. Haymitch inhaled deeply.

"Oh, Chaff wants me to tell you that he thinks you've gone soft. I told him it's just Willow and the effect the girl has on you but he just laughs it off."

"He's gone mad, that fellow."

"He's bored. He's determined to drive Finnick up the wall while he waits for you."

Haymitch fixed her with a look. It was odd to hear her talking about his friends that way but he supposed, she had more years with them than he ever did.

"Is it time?"

"Yes," Effie exhaled. "Yes, it is. Are you ready?"

"I'm not gonna be a ghost like you were, am I?"

Effie laughed and the sound washed over him. He leaned back against the pillow. Her laughter was a source of comfort to him, especially now.

"No, not if you're ready to leave everything behind."

"I am," he said just as she had said the day she moved on to the other side.

"Come now, Haymitch," she extended her hand towards him.

Haymitch stared at it. A part of him was fearful because he remembered all the times that he couldn't touch her but another part of him wanted so much to feel her again. In the end, the latter won and he raised his shaking hand, weak and old, and clasped her hand.

She squeezed his hand as if to reassure him and his frail heart nearly gave out.

"Oh, sweetheart…" he sighed and held on to her hand tightly. He never wanted to let go, not if he had a choice.

"I'm real. I'm right here. You're going to be okay, Haymitch. We're going to be together again," she spoke softly.

Effie gave his hand a gentle tug and he felt himself sitting up and moving off the bed. He stood next to her, hand in hand.

"That's you," Effie pointed to the bed as she rested her head against his shoulder. "You're here but your body's there."

"This is fucking weird."

"Language," she admonished him.

They watched as Willow woke up next to him on the bed, shaking him awake. They saw the confusion and the fear on the little girl's face before she ran out, screaming at the top of her lungs for her parents.

"Grandpa Haymitch won't wake up. Make him wake up! Daddy, make him wake up!"

Haymitch watched as Katniss pressed a finger against the side of his neck to feel for a pulse and then shook her head at her husband. Willow had started crying as she buried her face on Haymitch's chest, sobbing uncontrollably. Katniss had her face pressed against Peeta's neck.

"They gonna be okay?" he asked.

"They will be," she nodded. "They have each other."

"And I have you."

"You have me," she kissed his cheek. "Forever."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When Effie left him in Part 4, he would be about 47 so 33 years later he is 80.
> 
> Alright, that's it! I'm done breaking your hearts. I really, really enjoyed writing this story so I really hope you enjoyed it too! I know it's mostly sad but hey, they're together again! Please leave a review and let me know what you think of this chapter!
> 
> Again, thanks so much for reading!


End file.
